You Learned It Was Okay to Be Afraid
by Unproper Grammar
Summary: He has been to her apartment more times than he can remember, slept in her bed more times than he'd care to admit. But in all of the times he's been there, in all of the times he's nearly fallen apart on her couch, none of those times compare to this. Sequel to 'When We Were Young', Dick/Babs, Post-Darkest


Hi! I wanted to write this sequel almost immediately after I wrote the first part, but my fears about what could or could not happen in the rest of the season made me hesitant to do so. However, two episodes after the hiatus and the first comic of the Invasion series later, I feel a little less fearful and a little more confident in the direction the show is taking, so you now have this. And after Darkest, how could I not? Dick's development was just begging for fic to be written.

So here's how it goes. Let's say part one, 'When We Were Young', takes place post-Depths right before Darkest (like even the day before!) and this takes place post-Darkest. Make sense? This one is a little more disjointed than the first, but I think I am okay with that. It's where the muse took it, anyway.

**Disclaimer: Don't own Young Justice. The title comes from 'Explosions' by Ellie Goulding. The lyrics at the end are from 'I Know You Care', also by Ellie Goulding, which I listened to over and over while writing. **

* * *

**You Learned It's Okay to Be Afraid**

* * *

He makes mistakes like some people make decisions. He thinks so much about them, carefully examines every side and every part of them, that he thinks it's foolproof. He thinks he is doing right. He thinks he is doing not only what is expected of him, but also going beyond that. He thinks he is doing good.

He's not so sure anymore.

The lines between right and wrong blur so easily in general, but especially these days. His decisions, his choices, become mistakes faster than he can blink and he feels it weighing on him, heavier and heavier until he feels he'll collapse. It shouldn't be this hard, he thinks on the nights where he is covered in a thick, cold sweat, and he is alone with nothing but his thoughts and his regrets and his feelings; everything he tries to push away during the daylight. It should be easier to navigate between the mess of right and wrong. Bruce had taught him better than this. Bruce wouldn't let this get to him.

But Bruce wouldn't have let it get to this at all. Dick is certain of that.

He wishes he were here now. Wishes he could tell him everything. Wishes he could give him some guidance. Chances are, he would be a myriad of feelings; he'd be impressed, impressed that Dick and Wally and the others had managed to pull the rug right out from underneath them. He's Batman and no one pulls a fast one on him and now his protégé, his son, did. It was one for the ages. He'd be angry, no doubt, that Dick had lied, and that he had done things that he couldn't really go back from. He'd be disappointed; disappointed that he was turning out just like him. Bruce wouldn't have wanted this. Neither of them did.

Really, though, chances are a part of Bruce, if not all of him, already knows, and maybe that terrifies Dick more than the reaction he would have if he didn't know. He tries not to think about it.

Things are falling apart and the mistakes are piling up and the weight of them is crushing, crushing, crushing, and in the span of a few weeks, he's killed Artemis, had a fourth of his teammates captured by the enemy, blown up their home, and alienated both of his best friends. It's almost too much for him to take.

But he is not just Dick Grayson, he is Nightwing, and he can't let it get to him, so he shakes it off and buries it. He buries it beneath the fear and the hurt and the stress and tries to remain brave. Tries not to let the secrets eat him up inside.

He's good with secrets. He knows secrets. He can keep them like no other and he can unravel them with the best. He's been doing so since he was nine.

It's child's play at this point.

* * *

Barbara isn't speaking to him, not beyond a professional level. When the news of Mount Justice's destruction spread beyond the Team, she stepped up to the plate, stepped up the leadership role that was expected of the Children of the Bat. Tim was still too young, and the news of his closest friends capture shook him to the core, so it was up to Dick and Barbara to really rein everyone in. Everyone on the Team knew how to react to emotions; they understood them. Barbara and Dick had been raised differently. Think first; figure out a solution, and cry later, if at all. It wasn't that they were emotionless; it was just that they had been taught there was a time and place for them, and right now was not.

So Barbara helped a devastated M'Gann into her apartment and helped find shelter for the rest. Conner and Mal couldn't stay with her; her apartment was too small, and M'Gann was too much of a mess (her brother and her boyfriend were gone now, and seeing her pain made Dick wonder what the hell he was doing all over again) and it was too fragile of a situation to have both she and Conner in the same cramped walls for any period of time. Mal and Conner found college friends to stay with, and it seems okay for now. They'll rebuild. They'll figure the rest out later.

She doesn't answer his phone calls. She hasn't since before that night. He figures she's found a way to block his number, though he's not sure that's entirely possible. But she's Babs. She could outdo him when it came to hacking any day; surely she'd discovered a loophole that allowed her to hack the phone company's systems, override the operating system of her smartphone and block his texts and calls permanently. The information hurt, knowing that she wanted so little to do with him that she had found another way to shut him out of her life, but he figured maybe he hurt her a little more than that already. He figured he'd hurt her even more when she found out what he did, what he was doing.

There were reasons he didn't tell her. The reasons were many and complicated and simple. He didn't want to deceive her, but he didn't want to drag her into it, too. He didn't want to endanger her; she was Babs and she was important and she was special and he loved her. He wanted to keep her safe. He didn't want her to be angry at him for hiding things, didn't want her to be angry when she found out that he had faked the death of her friend and a million other things that he had lied to her about. He wanted a little more time with her where she didn't hate him.

Too bad it had backfired. Too bad it seemed like that happened all at once anyway.

"Are you really not going to speak to me?" he says one night. They are on a routine patrol in Gotham. Tim sat this one out; too much homework. The night is cold and Barbara's attitude seems almost colder.

"It's not that I'm not speaking to you," she says quietly. "I'm just tired of talking, Dick. It's your turn. I told you. I'll be there when you're ready to talk."

He doesn't say anything for a moment, looking across at Gotham's skyline. "You blocked my cell number."

"You were being awfully persistent," she says quietly. "I needed space. What else was I supposed to do?"

"Not block my fucking number, Babs," he sighs and looks over at her. "I'm sorry. I can't do this without you and I'm trying to make up for it. I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

"Nothing," Barbara admits. "Nothing unless you...unless you want to. Unless you're ready to talk."

He pauses again. "What if I'm never ready to talk?" he says quietly.

Barbara doesn't answer right away. "Then that's that. We make a good team, Dick, we always will. I'll help you keep things together with the team best as we can. But times are hard and I can't…" she swallows. "I can't do you and me right now. Not when you're being like this."

"Being like what?" he asks, and right after he does, he wishes he didn't.

"Being like him," she whispers. "You not talking? You keeping things like this to yourself? It's like him, Dick. You know it is."

A beat passes. "Barb—"

"You need to let someone in, Dick, and if it's not me, that's fine, but I don't think I can just be friends with you anymore and I definitely can't when there's all this…grey space between us. I need to put myself first in this situation, because I can't put myself first in anything else right now."

"I love you, Barbara," he admits, and he hears her breathing pick up. "I don't call you up at night cause I want to...just want to sleep with you. I do it because you understand me...you understand what it's like to have expectations placed on you because you're part of his team, a part of his family. And because I find comfort in you because I care about you. I call you because you're my oldest friend and one of my favourite people on this Earth and I want to be with you, but things are messy and I've done this romance thing time and time again and it doesn't work, and I don't want to lose you. I love you, Babs, and I never wanted to hurt you."

"Don't," she stands up. "Please don't. Please don't throw I love you at me like it's going to make things better. It's not. Don't make this any harder. I love you too, Dick, but I told you. I will be there when you need to talk."

When he glances over at her, she's pulling out her grappling hook. "Babs?"

"I gotta get home. Paper due tomorrow. I'll see you at the briefing tomorrow."

And with that, she's gone, soaring across the sky until she's nothing but a black speck in the distance.

* * *

Things with Wally aren't very good. He's angry and he doesn't really trust Dick anymore and he certainly doesn't trust Kaldur. Above all, he's worried about Artemis, and Dick tries to put himself in Wally's shoes. Tries to imagine what it would be like if Babs was the one who was acting undercover. He tries to pretend that it wouldn't scare him in the same way, that he knows Babs is smart and strong and tough and that she's been trained by the best. But he knows that wouldn't work because he loves her. And Wally loves Artemis and can he really blame him for being angry?

He can't and he knows this but he wishes it were more black and white. He wishes so desperately Wally was out of line but he knows he wasn't.

Wally is mad at him, but he still comes over to Dick's apartment when Dick nearly begs him. He's not sure how much longer he can do this for and he needs to talk to someone. For all of his faults and for all of the anger he harbors, Wally understands this, and he arrives on a rainy afternoon in Bludhaven with a grim expression and a six-pack of beer. He brings his dog, too, the shared pet he and Artemis picked out from the shelter. That dog had been his shadow lately. It breaks Dick's heart.

They're seated in the living room, beers open and the television on. It's turned to some sporting event that neither of them cares about. Wally speaks first.

Wally always speaks first.

"So what's wrong?" he asks simply. Dick wonders for a moment what it means that both Wally and Babs know what when he calls them over, it's because something is wrong. He wonders if this makes him selfish.

"Babs isn't speaking to me," Dick says, peeling the label on his beer bottle before taking a long sip. "She hasn't really talked to me for two weeks."

Wally doesn't say anything at first. "She's still talking to you, though, right? I thought you and she were taking care of all of the aftermath of this mess?"

"We are," Dick takes another drink. "But it's not the same. She um, decided, you see, we were…well…"

"You guys were sleeping together, right?" Wally says it so bluntly that it causes Dick to tense. He looks over at him. "How did I know?" Wally laughs a little. "Dick, you'd have to be a moron to not see how you two look at each other. It was me and Artemis all over again and fifty times worse cause at least we were sixteen."

Dick doesn't say anything for a minute. He drinks again. "Yeah. We were sleeping together, but it was more than that. She called it off, though. She um…she thought I was using her."

"Oh," Wally says. He takes his own drink. "I see."

"I wasn't, though," Dick says quickly. "I wasn't, Wally. I just…I don't know what I'm doing sometimes and it's more than just sex with her, it is, I love her. You know that. I've always loved her."

He leans forward and places his head in his hands. "But things are so fucked up, Wally. They're so fucked up and I keep fucking up and of course I fucked this up too. I just can't tell her. I can't. It's too much. I just can't."

The silence that transcends over the pair was one that was learned. It came with years of practice, years of conversation, years of getting to know each other. It was the kind of silence that came with being best friends with someone, knowing someone inside out. It was the kind of silence that was comfortable, where you didn't need words to fill the gaps. It was the kind of silence that occurred between family.

"Dick, you want to know what I think?" Wally asks quietly and Dick looks over at him. It was funny how the years changed things, he thinks, how Wally who used to be so full of exuberance and excitement was now quiet and thoughtful. At times, at least. Maybe that was just what love did to you; made you different. Or maybe it was just time. Time did have a way of making everyone rougher around the edges, because with time came experience.

Dick leans back, dropping his napkin on his plate. The dog nips at his feet and pant legs, and he reaches his hand under the table to scratch him behind the ears. "I guess so," he says finally.

"I think I understand why you have secrets, and Babs does, too. But I also think secrets are limiting, and I think you've come to a point where you're not sure how much you want to limit with her anymore," he says. "And more than that, I know, I know…that I couldn't do any of this, couldn't face myself in the morning, if I didn't share my secrets with Artemis. If we weren't in this together."

Dick downs his beer. "I guess it's easier said than done."

Wally picks up another beer and hands it to Dick. "It is when you're the son of the Bat, I guess."

They drink until the beer is gone and the football, basketball, whatever it was game, over. Wally decides to spend the night, too much alcohol in his veins, and passes out in the guest room. Dick knows their relationship is cracked and that any day it could break. As he hears his loud snoring from two doors over, he's thankful for it, and wonders how much longer he will be able to claim Wally is his best friend and how many days he will show up with beer and wise words. Maybe things can be salvaged.

Maybe.

* * *

The weight becomes too much to bare one night, and Dick breaks. He feels his insides collapse on top of each other, feels his heart sink down to his feet and feels the deep holes where the rest of him used to be. He feels sick at what he's become and even sicker at what he's doing.

What is he doing? He asks himself as he drives aimlessly through the streets of Gotham. He had to get away from home tonight, had to get away from Bludhaven. Who was he kidding? Who was he trying to be? He wasn't Batman and he didn't want to be Batman, so why had he decided this was the way to go? This was the way to stop things and save people?

Was this it? Was this his breaking point? Everyone has one, especially superheroes, and maybe this is his. He keeps driving.

He ends up at Bab's apartment and he hates himself for it.

He doesn't want to be there, doesn't want to make his way through the lobby, greeting the doorman and telling him that Babs invited him over and knows he's coming so could he buzz him up? He doesn't want to lie to one more person to get what he wants, but he needs her now. He thinks about what Wally said earlier and he knows. He can't do this without her.

He's being selfish about this whole thing. Keeps her away cause he doesn't want her anger. Pulls her in when he decides it's too much to handle on his own. But maybe he needs to be selfish. Maybe he needs to hold onto these feelings. Maybe he needs to do this, to separate himself from whom he's turning into. Maybe he needs Babs more than he really knows. Maybe he's okay with that.

The elevator doors open and he walks down the familiar hallway to her apartment. He knocks on the door three times and waits. She answers and frowns. "Dick?" she whispers and steps into the hallway. "What are you doing here? M'Gann's inside, sleeping..."

He doesn't say anything. He has been to her apartment more times than he can remember, slept in her bed more times than he'd care to admit. But in all of the times he's been there, in all of the times he's nearly fallen apart on her couch, none of those times compare to this.

He thinks about the time they first met. They were nine. It was at a Wayne Foundation Charity thing. He hated them, but it was a part of his new life. His new life that he had gotten fairly used to over the last couple of years, but this life involved stuffy suits and people who liked to pinch his cheeks and coo over him, exclaim how much he looked like his father. They were difficult.

And there was Barbara, slightly taller with freckly skin and bright red hair, shoved into a frothy pink dress looking bored out of her mind. He decided then she was the most beautiful girl in the world and went over to say hello. They ended up spending the evening hidden under a table, playing a game of make shift checkers with grapes and pieces of cheese until her father found them and dragged them out. It was one of the best nights he could remember.

He still thought she was the most beautiful girl in the world.

"Babs," he breathes, taking her in. She's standing before him and she's more beautiful than his mind recalls and he loves her. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I just…I'm a mess. I don't know what to do. I don't know where to go."

Her face crumples slightly. "Dick…"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen," he runs his hands through his hair and leans against the wall. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I didn't mean to hurt you. I didn't mean to hurt anyone."

She leans against the wall across from him, a comfortable distance away. "Dick…"

"Can we talk, Babs?" he asks. "Please? I just want to talk. I need to talk. I need you, Babs. I just need you."

She's at his side in an instant, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face in his neck. She was there. Just like she said she would be. He feels something in him break and he finally cries. Cries for Artemis and for Kaldur and for Wally and for the team. For Mount Justice and for Bruce, who raised him best he could, and for how angry he is going to be when he realizes how Dick is letting everyone down. He cries for Barbara and how he's hurt her time and time again and how she's still here. He clings to her; pulling her to him so close she's crushed against him. "Shh," she whispers. "It's okay."

"Our home's gone, Babs, and it's all my fault. Everything is my fault."

She brushes his hair back. "Shh, Dick, it's okay. It'll be okay. It's not your fault."

"But it is," he says, and for all his nineteen years, he's never felt so small. "It is."

Barbara presses a kiss to his forehead. "Shh," she takes his hand and pulls him down to the ground and they sit. "Calm down. Just start at the beginning."

They sit in the hallway of her quiet apartment building for a long time. Barbara wraps herself around him, lacing their fingers and brushing away his hair.

And Dick just talks. He tells her everything. Or maybe he doesn't. He's not sure what he tells her at all. But for now, it's enough.

He hand is in his and for now, all of it is enough.

_Clinging to me like a last breath you'd breathe.  
__You are like home to me; I don't recognize the street.  
__Oh, I know you care.  
__I know it's always been there.  
__But there's trouble ahead, I can feel it.  
__You are just saving yourself when you hide it._

_- I Know You Care by Ellie Goulding_


End file.
